


Slam Night

by castielrisingabove



Series: College AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Poetry, awkward interactions, coffee house, part of a longer series of one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a freshman studying sociology at the University of Kansas. Dean is a high school drop out fixing cars just to get by. Worlds collide at the most unlikely of places: Slam Poetry night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slam Night

It's an unorthodox hobby, but from the moment Castiel Novak discovered Slam Night, he was pulled into the world of slam poetry. Thursday nights at 7 PM he always made time to put down his homework (which usually ended up being the excess Introductory Calculus that had built up after many nights of utter confusion at the subject) and make his way off campus and into a nearby coffee shop known as "The Roadhouse."

The interior was decorated with mementos from the owner's years of road trips. Signs, posters, even things like menus and ticket stubs. What was more, there was a pin board that spanned one of the walls, encouraging others to attach  _their_ road-trip mementos for the whole shop to enjoy. What ended up on the wall ranged, anything from phone numbers to drawings to the occasional odd trinket. It was messy and haphazard, but just like The Roadhouse, it was full of life.

Towards the back of the joint was a small stage, which was always accented with a single microphone come Slam Night. Some of the performers were random strangers, typically nervous young women who'd never performed in their lives, but had been pressured on to try. But, if you went enough times, as Castiel had, you learned to pick up on the regulars who performed. 

His favorite regular? A guy named Dean Winchester. Tall and well-built, he took up the space in a way that seemed to imply he was intimidating, but every time Dean opened his mouth, it was nothing but raw vulnerability. Castiel could see the emotion shining from his rich green eyes and his voice always held Cas in rapt attention. 

_...she's not **just** a car. Her wheels are the wind, stretching far. Far into the unknown. Her steering wheel is my hand to hold, guiding me far. Far into the unknown. And her engine is a heart, beating in tandem with mine, our goals aligned as we go far, far into the unknown. _

After hearing Dean perform once or twice, Castiel almost lost his nerve. He might have fancied himself an amateur poet before, but Dean Winchester blew that all away. Still, between the nudging of his friend Anna, a vibrant red-head who he met in a study group and ended up being more of a rebel than Castiel could have imagined, and the growing temptation to try to impress Dean Winchester, Castiel agreed. It was why THIS particular night at the Roadhouse, Cas was shaking, downing cup after cup of coffee until Anna pried his fingers from the mug.

"You can have more once you've performed," she said, taking a sip from the mug.

Cas made a face. "I don't want to drink it now! You've contaminated the cup!"

Anna smirked and Cas stuck his tongue out as the performer on stage finished. There was a tepid response, scattered applause, but before Cas could take much more in, Anna was pushing him up towards the stage.

The lights seemed unusually bright from this perspective and the coffee shop, which had seemed small from the audience, now appeared to be entirely too big and entirely too full. Heart pounding, Castiel slowly uncrumpled his page of notes. His eyes swept the scene and, whether intentional or not Cas wasn't sure, locked onto the face of Dean Winchester as he began to recite his poem. When he spoke his first word, Dean's green eyes returned Castiel's gaze. Heart pounding, Cas forced himself to look away and focus on the poem. It was slow and stuttering, Cas unused to speaking aloud his written words. 

_Fall in line. Fall in line. Take a breath and step in time. The drum beats loud enough for me, beating out an eternity but the more I step in time, the more I fall in line, the more I just want to be free._

He could feel those green eyes upon him. And, sure enough, each time Castiel mustered the courage to look back, Dean's eyes were fixed on him. Castiel finished the poem to the same tepid response as before, although Dean's clapping filled the room. Shaking harder now, Cas collapsed into his chair next to Anna.

"I don't know about this," he said, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"You did great!" was her only reply.

An announcement from the owner, Ellen, sounded that the performance for the night was over. With a collective round of applause, the audience rose, Anna wandering off with her mug, and Cas allowed himself to get lost in the confusion of people preparing to leave. He lingered on a line between proud and embarrassed, taking the whole experience in when--

"Nice job on the poem."

Cas whirled around. He knew that voice. He'd heard enough honey-thick poems drip from the deep, gritty voice. "Dean?"

Sure enough, Dean stood above him. Cas could smell the leather of his jacket and found himself fixated on the necklace that dangled around Dean's neck. Dean chuckled. "You know my name already?"

"You perform a lot," Cas replied quietly, eyes tracing the details of the necklace. Was that a face carved into it?

"Fair enough," Dean said with a grin, "And you are...?"

"Castiel," Cas said, finally wrenching his gaze away from the necklace and nervously looking up to Dean's eyes.

"Nice to meet you," Dean replied, extending a hand. Cas shook it firmly, intrigued by how calloused it was.

"You mind if we get a coffee together?" Dean asked. His eyes trailed to the row of mugs already on the table, "Unless..."

Castiel turned red. "I'd love coffee." Was this really happening? "Why are we getting coffee?"

Dean shrugged, "You seem cool, I'd like to get to know you."

No. Seriously. Was this really happening? Castiel had watched this guy for months, the only person he ever talked to was a tall kid with shaggy hair. But here they were. Talking. Like Dean was friends with  _him_. Cas could barely contain his excitement as Dean returned with coffee.

They talked. But the more they talked, the more nervous Dean seemed to become. Cas couldn't understand it, Dean who was a fearless performer seemed to grow uncomfortable at even the most innocuous of questions, like what he was studying, where he lived and what he wanted to do with his life:

"I'm a high school drop out...wasn't that I wasn't smart enough, just...too much going on in my life and I gave up"

"I still live with my dad"

"Might just be a mechanic"

"I don't really have friends"

And then, unexpectedly, Dean set down his mug loudly, leaning forwards to stare Cas down.

"Why haven't you left yet?"

Cas blinked, confused. He glanced at the clock, ensuring they hadn't stayed past closing before mentally trying to review the conversation. It was true, Castiel wasn't good at picking up on social cues, perhaps Dean had been sending the message that he wanted Castiel gone. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked slowly.

Dean sagged. "No."

Castiel frowned, even more confused. "Then why--"

Dean cut him off with a sigh. "I've been trying to scare you off, dude. You're some college student with a future and friends, I'm just...me. People don't stay long in my life."

"But I like you," Cas said quietly, looking down, "And I don't, uh...I don't really have many friends."

"Oh," Dean's mouth was frozen open as he stared at Cas, fiddling with his mug. "You, uh...wanna be friends?"

Cas nodded. A tentative grin crossed Dean's face, followed by a nervous smile on Cas'.

"Just one thing," Cas added solemnly.

"Anything."

"No more trying to scare me off."

"Deal."


End file.
